“Something work related?” she asked Jennifer as she let her phone slip into the silk lining of her clutch. Her nervous swell ballooned. Sophia and Jennifer might very well be about to confront her about her relationship with Carter right here at a work party.
Wait. Did she even have a relationship with Carter?
Both Sophia and Jennifer fidgeted, uncomfortable. “Something like that...” Sophia said. “We’ve been discussing our current situation and we agree that there’s an issue that might need to be addressed and resolved. It involves you.”
Oh god. Quick. Confuse. Redirect. Look over there.
“Me? C’mon, Sophia, do we have to do this now? Don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to get tangled up in more work talk. Besides, I already have Carter working me to the bone.” She almost winced at her choice of words. “How about tonight we prioritize the important stuff? Until we get back in the office. Paul, pass me one of those?” She gestured towards the ledge with the potted shrubbery.
“Hell yes.” Paul handed her a shot.
Expectantly, Perdie held up the plastic cup in a toast. “Shots for the holidays, anyone?”
Jennifer pursed her lips and handed her cigar to her husband as she too accepted a shot from Paul. “Fine. I suppose it can wait. I didn’t hire a babysitter so I could not party. But it is important. I’ll shoot you a private meeting request later.”
Sophia nodded. “The three of us need to sit down and talk.” She waved off Paul’s offer of alcohol with a wave of disgust. “Are you serious?”
Perdie was grateful that the redirection worked. For now. But it would give her time to devise a plan about Carter. She brought the rim of her cup to her lips, and the small touch of liquid burned her sensitive skin. Tequila. “Bottoms up.”
Everyone but Sophia tilted their heads, downing the liquid. They each tossed their cups into the trash. Perdie let the warmth of the liquor wash over her insides as Owen and Paul discussed Clemson sports and Sophia fixed errant strands fallen from Jennifer’s French twist.
Perdie slipped her phone from her clutch again.
P: Sorry, Pretty Boy.
There was no way Perdie and Carter could leave together now. They’d be absolutely suspicious. Guilty, as they were. And people were drunk, but they weren’t drunk enough to forget juicy gossip.
P: Looks like we’ll be staying awhile.
The next few hours flew by in a hazy blur against a backdrop of glitzy Christmas decorations and jazzy cover songs. The combination was having a euphoric effect on Perdie’s psyche. Or maybe it was the orgasms. Or that she’d escaped a potential conversation of doom with her colleagues. Whatever the case, she was feeling the holiday joy.
She made the rounds, joining in each intermingling group of attorneys and staff, letting Max fill up her martini glass whenever spirits ran low, taking care to limit her proximity to Carter.
Emboldened by her drinks, she dropped in on a conversation with managing partner Minnie Martinson and Charles Joy, gleaning such useful tips as “work hard, play hard” and to “keep your head down.” Original. She was proud of herself for sneaking into their orbit at all. Although, for being such successful people, they weren’t very clever. But no stress. As long as she could keep her name on their brains, she could still have a shot at partner.
While she might have been avoiding Carter, Carter had not been avoiding her. She could easily catch his eye, even now when he was talking with Aubrey and Ferris and a few other senior attorneys, including one attorney’s wife, Aisha Wakely, the founder of Lowcountry Pro Bono Access. Aisha wasn’t a fan of these parties but she would show on occasion, attempting to recruit volunteer lawyers. But even while he was deep in a conversation with Aisha, he inclined his head, a secret message between the two of them. He was keeping tabs, and it sent a thrill down her drunken spine.
When she made the rounds all the way to Carter and Aubrey, Max in tow, she determined that she needed to make secret amends with Aubrey. The woman hadn’t even known Perdie was sharpening her fangs before, and none of Perdie’s feelings of jealousy were Aubrey’s fault. Besides, she actually kind of liked the woman.
Perdie waved an unsteady finger in the air. “Look, Aubrey. You seem like a nice person, can I give you some advice?”
Aubrey’s eyelids fluttered, but she smiled, as if unsure and potentially a little afraid of what Perdie might say. “When you say something like that it makes me nervous.”
Perdie waved her hand in the air, dismissing Aubrey’s nerves. “No, no, no, no. You’ll thank me. I promise.”
Aubrey shrugged. “Okay, what is it?”
“You’re wearing the wrong shade of red.” Perdie swallowed a hiccup.
Aubrey tilted her head. “Excuse me?”
Perdie gestured at Aubrey’s red bandage dress. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re stunning. Like a wholesome Jessica Rabbit. But this shade of red is all wrong, baby girl. Too cool, too dark for your undertones. You need something warmer...brighter. Then you’ll really sparkle.” Perdie’s eyes lit up at the thought. “Like a Christmas ornament. Here...” She fished inside her clutch for her phone, dismissing Carter’s waiting message.
C: Anytime you’re ready to leave Bad Girl...
Her eyes only flittered to him for a second before she did a quick search and held up her phone to Aubrey’s face. She handed Aubrey her pocket mirror.
“See how this color on my phone screen is so much better against your face.”
Aubrey examined the results in the mirror and nodded her head slowly. “Wow, I never did realize.” She turned to Carter. “Carter, isn’t Perdie such a riot?”
“Riot’s not the word I would use.” His mouth tightened. “On second thought, maybe it is.”
Perdie smiled innocently, tugging on the cuff of Max’s dark blue sleeve. “Now, this guy has it right. I can’t think of a better color or style on you than this blue and this tartan, Max.” She nodded approvingly, patting the velvet material at his biceps, entirely aware that the interaction would irk Carter. She peeked beneath her falsies to see his jaw tick with tension.
Max feigned embarrassment, rubbing his beard. “Flatterer.”
Perdie reached up to ruffle his hair. “You can tell the truth and flatter all in one.”
Her phone vibrated again.
C: We done playing this game?
Perdie smirked as she raised her glass to her lips, the taste surprising her: Jesus, when had she switched to scotch? She let her mind wander as Aubrey and Max discussed the ins and outs of Manhattan real estate. She assessed the crowd, everyone louder than they should be, well into their sixth and seventh rounds of drinks, and some even sloppily dancing in front of the stage. It was finally the perfect time to slip away.
And so, with a pat on Max’s arm, and mumbling I’ll be back in her best Terminator impression, Perdie found herself tottering right out the dining hall, tumbler of scotch in hand.
Chapter Twenty
